Second Chance Hero

by Winnie Griggs

  She nodded to Nate and he started the intro. She counted down with her fingers, then pointed to the youngest group. She had to smile as they sang. They weren’t completely together, but what they lacked in technique, they made up for in enthusiasm. Even if they didn’t improve before the actual performance, their parents would love watching them.

  Though by no means perfect, they made it through the entire hymn without having to stop. They went through it a few more times, and once Verity thought they were comfortable with the song, she asked them to add some minor movement. As the time came for each verse, she had the group responsible step forward, then return to their places when they were done.

  There were a few missteps, naturally, but all in all she was pleased with this first practice. When they came back together on Thursday they could polish this up and begin work on the next song.

  Just as she was ready to dismiss the group, Hazel showed up with a measuring tape and notebook in hand. The dressmaker took quick measurements of each of the children for the smocks she planned to make.

  When the final measurement had been taken and all of the children but Joy had gone, Hazel turned to Verity. “So how was the first practice?”

  “I think it went quite well.” Verity turned to Nate. “What did you think?”

  “They’re a good group of kids. Some of them already have excellent singing voices, some are going to need a little more work. But I think in the end we’ll have a program the parents and friends will be able to appreciate.”

  Verity nodded. “I agree. And all of them seem willing to put in the work.”

  “Well, I have what I came for.” Hazel gathered up her things. “If you two have additional work to do, I can take Joy back with me. You can stop in and get her on your way home.”

  Verity resisted the urge to roll her eyes at this not-so-subtle bit of matchmaking, but nodded, anyway. She knew Hazel would keep a close eye on her daughter, so she had no qualms on that account. “Well, there is something regarding our next practice I’d like to work out with Mr. Cooper.” She turned to him. “If you don’t mind staying a moment longer.”

  “Not at all.”

  Hazel held her hand out. “Come along, Joy. Buttons has a new bit of yarn he needs someone to dangle for him.”

  Joy went to her without hesitation. With one last grin over her shoulder toward Verity, Hazel led the little girl out the door.

  A moment later, though, Joy raced back inside. What in the world was the matter?

  “Joy, slow down before you fall and hurt yourself.”

  The girl immediately slowed her steps but continued forward. Verity saw Hazel step inside and pause.

  She turned back to her daughter. “What’s the matter? Did you change your mind about going with Miss Hazel?”

  Joy shook her head. “I forgot Lulu.” She reached into one of the pews near the front of the church and triumphantly picked up her doll. Squeezing her ever-present companion tightly, she turned back toward Hazel and made her exit for the second time.

  * * *

  Nate watched Joy leave, then turned to her mother. “That doll seems to be very dear to her.” Susanna had had a special doll, also. Unlike Joy’s wooden-headed cloth figure, though, Susanna’s had been china and elegantly dressed in lace and silk. Still, it seemed both girls shared a similar love for their playthings.

  Verity nodded. “It was given to her by her father.” Her expression grew more solemn. “Just one week before he died.”

  Nate stilled at that reminder of her loss. And of the secret he was keeping from her.

  But Verity didn’t seem aware of him. Her gaze was unfocused, turned inward. “She was only four at the time and I think she’s forgotten so much of him. He loved her very much—I’m glad she has that one thing of his she can cling to.”

  What about her? Was her memory of her deceased husband still fresh and raw? Or was he a beloved but fading memory that she thought fondly of from time to time?

  And why did the answer to that very personal question matter so much to him?

  “I’m sorry,” she said, her cheeks pinkening. “I shouldn’t have brought up such personal thoughts.”

  “No need to apologize. I’m honored that you would be comfortable sharing them with me.”

  Her smile immediately turned warmer.

  Deciding his thoughts were now drifting toward dangerous territory again, he cleared his throat. “So what was this you needed to speak to me about?”

  She took his cue and her expression took on a more businesslike cast. “I was thinking I’d like to change the second song to something else.”

  “And what brought this on?”

  Her nose wrinkled slightly, as if she was trying to articulate a nebulous feeling. “It just doesn’t seem to fit in with the other two.”

  He stilled at that. “And fitting in is important to you?”

  Something in his tone must have caught her attention because she gave him a faintly puzzled look. “Well, of course. The program should be harmonious, don’t you think?”

  Fit in. Harmonious. Did she feel that way about the people she let into her life, as well?

  Rather than answering her question, he asked one of his own. “What did you have in mind to replace it with?”

  “That’s just it, I can’t make up my mind.”

  He moved around the piano. “Do you mind if we walk while we discuss this? I need to head back to my shop. Miss Ortolon asked to talk to me about her saddle design again and I told her to come at four-thirty.”

  “Oh. Of course.” She fell in step beside him as they headed down the aisle. “I apologize for holding you up. We can continue this conversation another time, if you like.”

  He heard something different in her voice, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what. “Not at all. There’s time to figure this out before Miss Ortolon arrives.” He opened the church door and allowed her to precede him. “So back to your question, what attributes would a song need to have in order to fit in with the other two songs? Are you looking for another hymn?”

  “Not necessarily, though a hymn would definitely work better than a child’s rhyme.” She paused, as if gathering her thoughts. “I guess I’m looking for something with an uplifting message.”

  She waved a hand with an apologetic air. “I’m sorry I didn’t think this through earlier. I hate changing things up now that we’ve set the children’s expectations.” She grimaced self-consciously. “Uncle Grover always says being wishy-washy shows a lack of character.”

  He felt strangely protective of her and was insulted on her behalf. “Not at all. And you’re not being wishy-washy. You’re merely being flexible enough to make an adjustment when you spot a weakness.”

  He was rewarded with a warm smile. “I guess I’d never thought of it that way. That does sound nicer, doesn’t it?”

  He forced himself not to bask in her smile but to get back to business. “So, a new song. Given our time frame, it would need to be either something the children are already familiar with or something very simple.”

  “Agreed.”

  He rubbed his chin. “How do you feel about adding a patriotic song? Something like ‘America’ or ‘Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean’?”

  “Why, that’s a great idea.” She smiled at him as if he’d said something brilliant. “I think ‘America’ will fit in perfectly. And you should be able to find the sheet music for it in the stack Zella left for you—she plays it every Independence Day. Which also means most of the children will at least have heard it before.”

  He nodded, a bit puffed up by her enthusiastic praise. “I’ll come by tomorrow to look for it and maybe run through the song a couple of times just to make certain I can play it smoothly at Thursday’s practice session.”

  “I’ll be glad to hel
p you with that if you like.”

  He definitely liked. But should he agree?

  She spoke up again before he could decide. “It might be good for us to run through it together so we can decide whether to have the children sing it as a group or break it out by verses like we’re doing the others.”

  How could he say no to that? “Of course.” They’d reached his shop by then and he opened his door. “Would you like to continue our discussion inside?”

  She started to say something then glanced down the sidewalk and her expression changed. “I think we’re done for now. I’ll let you get back to work.”

  He followed her gaze and saw Belva approaching. He turned back to her and nodded. “I’ll see you at the church tomorrow then. Shall we say four o’clock?”

  With a nod and a wave, she retraced her steps as far as the dress shop. He watched as she stepped inside, then he turned to greet Belva.

  * * *

  Verity didn’t tarry long at Hazel’s. Joy, naturally, didn’t want to part from Buttons but reluctantly followed her mother out. Verity determinedly kept her gaze on her daughter as they walked past Nate’s shop, though she was quite tempted to look. Were he and Belva laughing the way they’d been the last time she saw them together?

  Nate had said Belva was stopping by to discuss her saddle design. What was there about saddle design that needed further discussion once the order had been placed?

  Verity didn’t like the idea that she was giving jealousy a toehold in her heart, but there was no denying she had. If she couldn’t control her heart, she at least had to control where she let her thoughts take her.

  With that in mind, she turned to her daughter. “So, Joy, what did you think of choir practice today?”

  “It was fun.”

  “And what was your favorite part?”

  “It was when Mr. Cooper practiced with our group. He has a nice voice.”

  It seemed Nate had managed to steal her daughter’s heart, as well.

  She let Joy’s happy chatter, which required very little response, carry them the rest of the way home.

  * * *

  Nate listened to Belva’s suggestions and took the appropriate notes. Back when he had been working part-time at the boardinghouse, Belva had gotten into the habit of chatting with him while he chopped wood or performed some of the other maintenance chores her aunt had lined up for him.

  He wasn’t sure why she’d taken to him the way she had—perhaps it was because she was fairly new to town herself and hadn’t made any close friends yet. Or perhaps it was because, as she’d told him recently, he reminded her of a schoolteacher she’d had when she was younger, a man she admired and trusted very much. Whatever the case, it seemed he’d become a confidant of sorts for her. She’d confided secrets that she hadn’t shared with anyone else. He hadn’t reciprocated, of course, which made him feel even more of a fraud. But he hadn’t asked to be put into that role, and there was nothing he could do about it now.

  All that being said, normally he enjoyed her chatter—she almost felt like a younger sister—but today his mind was on Verity.

  The doctor’s niece was beginning to look at him with a certain softness, a certain interest that he couldn’t mistake. The thing was, he wasn’t sure if she liked him for who he truly was, or if she still had some kind of misguided sense of gratitude that she was mistaking for something deeper. And the answer to that mattered a great deal to him.

  Whatever the case, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could maintain a “just friends” attitude, especially when she looked at him with those lovely eyes of hers and that sweet smile on her lips. And even worse was this gnawing guilt that he was lying to her by omission.

  The time was drawing near when he’d have to summon the courage to tell her his past.

  And once he did, he wouldn’t have the problem of having her look at him with such admiration at all.

  “Mr. Cooper.”

  Belva’s voice pulled him back to the present. “Yes.”

  She had a fist planted on her hip. “I don’t think you’ve heard anything I’ve said for the past few minutes.”

  He didn’t bother denying the accusation. “I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

  She relaxed and waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, nothing much. Just nattering on like always. But it looks like this time, it’s you who needs to talk. Anything I can help with?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just distracted today.” He tapped his notebook with his pencil. “I think I have your new specifications down and I don’t see any problems incorporating them in the final product. Was there anything else?”

  She shook her head. “That’s all for now. I can’t wait to see the finished saddle.”

  “Have you told your aunt about your horse yet?”

  “I’m going to wait until the very last minute. I’m afraid something will happen to spoil my plans if I tell too many people.” Then she gave him a little wave. “Thank you again. And remember, if you need someone to talk to, I’m available.”

  Someone to talk to—that would be very welcome. But the only person here he could safely confide in was Adam, and Adam was a big part of his dilemma.

  Because his story wasn’t his alone. If he ever reached the point where he was ready to talk about his time in prison and what he’d done to land him there, if the person he told was an intelligent person, she might begin to wonder just how he and Adam met. And Nate would not allow himself to be the cause of speculation about Adam’s past.

  No matter how uncomfortable keeping secrets from certain people made him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next few days passed in a pleasantly busy fashion for Verity. She met Nate at church Wednesday afternoon as they’d planned, and together they practiced the new song in what Verity thought of as perfect harmony. Singing with him had become a treasured experience for her. She loved the way their voices intertwined, the way his gaze held hers when they sang, the way they seemed to instinctively be able to anticipate one another. Perhaps, sometime soon, she could convince him to perform a duet with her during the Sunday service.

  In the end they decided to go with the first three verses of “America” for the program and to let the children perform it as a group rather than assigning parts.

  At Thursday’s practice session, Verity had them start out by running through “Jesus Loves Me,” the song they’d practiced during the prior session, a couple of times and then she introduced “America” as the replacement for “Row, Row, Row Your Boat.” By the end of the hour-long session she was well pleased with their progress.

  By the time Friday rolled around, Verity had Eula Fay’s hat completed. The mayor’s wife seemed delighted with the result, lavishing effusive praise on Verity. It was enough to make her begin to think that perhaps she might just be ready to open her millinery business after all.

  Despite his teasing comments earlier in the week, Nate didn’t join them on Saturday for their weekly tea, but Verity hadn’t really expected him to.

  Belva, however, did join them. The other members of the group welcomed her and seemed genuinely delighted to learn she was joining the choir.

  Despite the remaining pinprick of jealousy, Verity couldn’t help but like the girl. She was perpetually optimistic, had a bit of coltish awkwardness about her and was always willing to pitch in and help where she could.

  And later, at choir practice, she proved to have a tolerable enough voice to blend in with the rest of the group.

  After choir practice, Hazel approached her. “Come with me and stop by the shop on your way home. There’s something I want to show you.”

  Verity had hoped to walk with Nate but hid her disappointment. “Of course. Is it something to do with the choir smocks?”

  “No questions—it’s a surprise
.”

  Verity rolled her eyes—Hazel and her love of the dramatic. But it was always easier to go along with her than try to argue.

  “So, how are things going between you and Mr. Cooper?” her friend asked.

  “He’s been a big help to me with the children’s choir. He has a way about him that they all respond to.”

  Hazel gave her a little nudge. “I didn’t ask how he was getting along with the children. I asked how he was getting along with you.”

  Verity waved a hand airily. “We’ve become good friends, and of course I have no complaints about his performance as a musician.”

  Hazel gave her a severe frown. “You, my dear, can be a most frustrating friend. I want details, not boring platitudes.”

  Verity placed a hand over her heart in feigned shock. “Boring?”

  “Don’t play the innocent with me, Verity Magdalena Leggett. You know exactly what I mean.”

  Verity laughed. “Let’s just say we get along very well.” By this time they’d reached Hazel’s shop. “Now, what is this surprise you wanted to show me?”

  “Patience, my dear.” Hazel opened the door and led the way inside.

  Verity’s gaze went immediately to a dress form in the center of the shop. Draped on it was a lovely dress fashioned from that same shadow-blue fabric she had so admired last week.

  She moved closer to examine it. Hazel had done an amazing job of keeping it simple but at the same time giving it a special feel. The slightly flared skirt was trimmed on the bottom with two rows of a darker blue ribbon, as was the waistband. The sleeves were puffed from the shoulder and then gathered at the elbow and snug on the forearm. Again there was dark trim on the bodice, but here it was done in a vertical pattern that Verity could tell would be quite flattering to the wearer.

  “So, what do you think?”

  Verity turned to her friend. “It’s really lovely. I knew this fabric would drape beautifully, but I think you outdid yourself here. You should have no trouble selling this one.”

  “Oh, it’s not for sale.” Her friend had a very smug look on her face. “I made it for you.”